


in this cage

by interstellarbeams



Category: Aladdin (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Romance, Choices, F/M, Literal and Figurative Cages, Love Confessions, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Jasmine is being forced to marry Jafar, but all she wants is to see Aladdin one last time.





	in this cage

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Gretchen for always being encouraging and Katie for being my beta.
> 
> Dedicating the angst to Corinne, Lia, Kayla, Hope and Emma for listening to all my rambling and encouraging me when I felt discouraged. Love y’all! 
> 
> Prompt: aladdin + jasmine — “the way i said ‘i love you’ -- muffled, from the other side of the door” but it turned into THIS but I know you wanted angst Hope so here it is! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! <3

The sound of the throne room doors closing behind her, her beloved Baba left behind with the unstable Jafar, felt like a brutal stab to Jasmine’s heart. But even worse, the pain of seeing Aladdin taken away by the guards who were supposed to be loyal to her and her father and not the vizier-turned-sultan cut deeper. 

Now she was being forced to marry the disgusting excuse for a man who had to use magic and trickery to steal the throne away from her father. Yes, Aladdin had used that same magic to trick her into believing he was Prince Ali, but the feelings that now resided in her heart had been developing long before that magic carpet ride where he had looked at her with such adoring eyes. 

The street thief had caught her attention after her first look into his soft brown eyes. Eyes that held kindness, compassion and understanding, not condemnation like the market stall owner’s. 

He hadn’t tried to impress her when they first met, had been honest about himself and his situation and, despite the differences in their stations, Jasmine had felt an immediate connection to the orphaned young man who couldn’t escape the poverty he was born into. She too felt like she could never move beyond what she was born to be, a woman only meant to hang on the arm of a powerful man while he made all the decisions and she kept her mouth closed and looked beautiful and as distant as a statue. 

The touch of Dalia’s hand to her arm and the concerned glances she offered did little to comfort Jasmine as she walked, guards at her back, to her chambers to prepare herself for her “wedding.” It felt more like a deadly walk towards the executioner's block and the sudden fear that Aladdin was actually taking his last steps to that actual block left her frozen with fear and she stopped in her tracks. 

“Jasmine, what is it?” Dalia asked, looking her over carefully as if she expected to see an open wound. She wasn’t injured, not physically, but it felt like she had been punched in the stomach as fear for Aladdin’s life coursed through her. 

“I can’t do this,” she blurted out suddenly, pressing a hand to her stomach as fear twisted her insides into a knot. She stared at her childhood friend, the woman who was like the sister she never had, but the comfort that she normally felt when she looked into her kind eyes was nowhere to be found. Dalia was just as frightened and heartbroken as she was and Jasmine felt her heart drop at the uncontrollable situation. 

“But you have to! Jasmine, you made a promise! What about your father?” Dalia scolded, surprising Jasmine with her vehemence.

“No, not _that_ , I know I made a promise and I plan to keep it but, I meant — ” she sighed, thoughts tumbling around in her head like the acrobats she had seen at one of the summer festivals when she was a girl.

She looked over her shoulder to find the guards standing at attention, stock still. They didn’t question her and they didn’t try to push her forward in order to follow Jafar’s instructions. Suddenly, Jasmine felt a flicker of hope that maybe not _all_ of their men were afraid of the young sorcerer. 

Turning back to her friend, she clutched her hands in front of her, the ring she wore on one finger cutting into her hand, but she ignored the inconvenient pain as her brain swirled with contradictory thoughts.

“Dalia,” she felt her voice tremble and she swallowed. “I have to see him. I have to see Aladdin. Will you help me?”

Dalia frowned as she looked at her friend. “Jasmine ... Jafar — what if he finds out? What if he uses his freaky sorcery on us? He’s ... he’s frightening.” 

“Please, for me? Wouldn’t you do anything to free Genie from his lamp if you could? I’m just asking you to help me see him again. I can’t,” Jasmine swallowed the bile that tried to fill up her throat, “I can’t marry Jafar without seeing Aladdin one last time.” 

Dalia wrung her hands for a moment, but one glance at the tears that slowly trickled down Jasmine’s face and she stiffened her trembling chin and straightened her shoulders before catching her eyes, “OK, _yes_ , let’s do it.” 

“Oh, Dalia, thank you.” She reached forward and kissed her friend on the cheek.

Jasmine turned back to the guards. If she was caught trying to sneak down to the dungeon with her guards, they would be punished severely and she couldn’t have them risk themselves without their permission. She wouldn’t put her people in danger for her selfishness. Only if it was their decision could she ask it of them.

“Are you OK with this, Naas? Ameer? I don’t want any harm to come to you.” She waited a moment, keeping a careful eye on the large doors that led into the throne room. 

The men looked at each other, their faces impassive, but they turned as one and nodded their heads in acceptance. Jasmine thanked them quietly before turning back around and heading toward the dungeons, Dalia’s sweaty palm clasped in her own clammy one. 

————

Jasmine had never been down the dark corridor that led to the dungeons. Any curiosity she might have had about it when she was young had been scared out of her by a morbid nurse’s lurid story of corpses and the howling cries of the dying. 

As she got older, she protested the treatment of many of the prisoners — who knew what creatures lurked in the dank cells to torment its tenants, there was little to no sunlight and the food that they did happen to receive wasn’t fit for the stray dogs that roamed the city streets — but her arguments had fallen on deaf ears as Jafar dismissed her concerns and her father, a normally thoughtful and compassionate man, had strangely agreed with the younger man. 

The shadows could have held any number of horrors, but Jasmine didn’t care. She just pushed forward, ignoring the fear that left goosebumps raised on her arms as she worked toward her goal of seeing Aladdin again. 

Lit torches lined the dank corridor, permeating the air with oily smoke that Jasmine tried not to choke on as it filled her lungs and muddied her thoughts. Dalia offered her a handkerchief, but she refused it, pressing it toward her handmaiden instead. She nodded her approval when Dalia covered her nose and mouth with the embroidered square. 

When they reached the large wooden door that only the soldiers were allowed beyond, Jasmine was surprised to see the post abandoned and another bolt of dread shot through her. Did the dungeon no longer need guarding because Aladdin wasn’t alive to inhabit one of the cells? 

_Don’t be silly_ , she thought to herself, _there’s bound to be more prisoners than the one man you care about._

She expected to be met with resistance when she tried to open the door, pulling with all her might on the cast iron ring that was affixed to the iron-banded wood, but it opened with a creak of hinges needing oil and nothing more.

Dalia cringed at the audible shriek emanating from the door hinges and Jasmine felt the same dread pool in her stomach, but she couldn’t stop now. She motioned for her friend and her guards to stay behind as she stepped over the threshold into a torch-lined hallway dotted with cages. 

“Aladdin?” she called, the echo of her own voice sounding eerie in the silent jail. 

“Aladdin? Are you here?” she called again when she didn’t hear a reply. The gravel underfoot scraped against the stone floor as she turned to glance behind her toward the open door, one hand against the wall.

The diaphanous cloth of her trailing skirts caught against the rough hewn stone of the wall, but she forgot all about it once she heard a familiar voice calling her name. 

“Jasmine, is that you?” 

She snatched up her skirt and followed the sound of his voice, dropping to her knees when she recognized his face through the crisscrossing of rusty grate.

“Jasmine, what are you doing here? How did you escape?” he asked, his brows knit with worry, but she ignored his question. She only wanted to look at him, to reassure herself he was OK despite his current status. She didn’t want to speak of the moment that awaited her once she made it back to the throne room. 

“Where’s Jafar?” he tried to peer around the edge of the wall, but the open space was too small to see anything besides the dark stone wall behind her.

“Where’s Abu? Didn’t they bring him down here with you?” Jasmine asked in return in order to distract him.

“Oh, _no_ , they thought he might get handsy with the guards and try to steal the keys … I don’t know what they've done with him. I hope he’s OK. He’s all I have.” He dropped his head, the top of his purple cap and his dark hair all she could see of him in the dim light. 

“Of course he isn’t, you have me and, and … please don’t give up yet.” She reached forward and grasped the metal that barred her from him. “I — I know you must think I hate you for lying to me about who you were, but I did the same thing when we first met. I can’t judge you for doing the same thing I did.”

Aladdin lifted his head, brushing back the bangs that fell over his forehead and she leaned forward, as close as she could get to the bars.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth when you figured out Ali was me. I don’t know what I thought would happen if you found out, but I was too afraid to risk it. You’re wonderful and knowledgeable and I was scared that you would never speak to just Aladdin. You’re a princess and I’m just — ”

“No, Aladdin — there’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t have to be afraid. I’m sorry I told you I was Dalia … I panicked and I blurted it out. I guess we both started off on the wrong foot, didn’t we?” 

“Well, it could be worse … I could be locked in a dungeon by a power hungry sorcerer.”

Jasmine wanted to laugh at his attempt at a joke, but she was afraid she would start sobbing if she opened her mouth. 

Silence settled between them, but Jasmine didn’t want to break it. She really should go. Jafar would wonder what was taking her so long and send more guards out looking for her, but she wasn’t ready to go, to leave him, because then she would never see him again. She couldn’t face it so she tried to ignore it. 

Her thoughts raced and her heart started beating hard. She felt like she might have a panic attack, her breath coming short, when he rested his hand on hers. 

“Hey, it’s OK. It’s gonna be okay.” She lifted her eyes from her lap to his face, the earnest expression in his eyes making her forget her horrible situation for just a moment. 

His hand was warm in the chill of the dungeon air and calluses roughened his palm, but she would take his rough hands over the soft manicured ones of her soon-to-be husband.

She gasped audibly at that thought and Aladdin eyed her with concern, shifting his weight like he could somehow get to her despite the barricade between them.

She turned her hand over and grasped his, the iron edge of the bar cutting into the top of her hand but she ignored the irritation to focus all her attention on him.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” she swallowed hard, trying to corral her thoughts, her emotions and panic clouding her normally calm and cool temperament. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ve survived this long, what’s a little confinement?” He tried to comfort her but she couldn’t not worry about him no matter how much of a survivor he was. Now that he was a part of her life, the man she knew she could count on no matter what, the friend she never knew she needed, the man she loved, worry for him was a part of her. 

“I — ” she tried to think of something else to say, to break the melancholy moment, but she knew she was running out of time and nothing she said could change what would happen next. 

“Jasmine, what is it? You can tell me anything.” He was so sweet. Trying to be supportive when he couldn’t physically do anything about the situation. 

Jasmine had to be realistic. She was trapped and she felt the water closing in over her head. Her suffocation was mere moments away and she struggled for the oxygen that was her salvation, but it was nowhere to be found. 

She felt the dampness of tears flood her eyes and she bent her head, afraid for him to see her so devastated. She didn’t want to add to his trials since he was already locked away with no hope in sight, but he knew her and he squeezed her fingers again.

“Jasmine …” His voice was so soft and she recognized the love that she felt squeezing her heart like a vise in the softness of the way he said her name.

A tear dropped from her eye and landed on his hand and she pulled away, trying to draw her hand back through the grate, but his fingers were tight on hers and a sob escaped her.

“Please,” she whispered, pleading with him, her heart shattering like a fragile vase on a marble floor, “please, you have to let me go.” 

She could feel his gaze on her, the intensity of it causing her heart to pound, but he did like she asked and let go of her hand. She rested it in her lap, trying to keep from sniffling, but she couldn’t stop the tears from running down her face. 

A loud clang brought her head up and she gasped, turning her head toward the door that led into the dungeon. Fear that she was about to be caught lifting her to her feet despite her earlier attempts at denial and distraction. 

“Aladdin, I — thank you for that taste of freedom,” she managed to push out through a throat that tightened with the urge to sob. 

“Jasmine, what — ?” He stood too. His fingers gripped the bars tightly as his eyes traced her face, but she couldn’t let him interrupt her. She had to say it now or she never would. 

She wanted to collapse, she wanted to lay there on the dirty dungeon floor until she was missed and the guards came with Jafar to drag her away to her own personal prison, but she had to be strong, she had to. 

Her lip trembled but she managed to lift her head and look him in the eyes, to say what she had come to say, “I love you.”

His mouth dropped open and she was afraid to hear those three words coming from his mouth because then she wouldn’t be able to go through with it and she needed to, she couldn’t be selfish anymore. 

She turned and fled, the goodbyes and the I’m sorry’s stuck in her throat, but she had told him the most important thing. If only it didn’t feel like her heart was left behind with him, locked in a dark, dank and dusty prison instead of flying as free and happy as a bird let out of its cage. 

“Jasmine? _Jasmine!_ ” he called, but she couldn’t let his voice draw her back to him. She had to protect her father and herself from even more pain. 

She would be like that statue, the one they always wanted her to be, from now on and statues didn’t have feelings, did they?


End file.
